


Before

by Skippyjo94



Category: Gifted (Movie 2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father's Death, Frank comforts Diane, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Diane, Kid Frank, Kid Logic, Loss of Parent(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-12 15:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skippyjo94/pseuds/Skippyjo94
Summary: Frank looks back on a night he spent comforting his baby sister, Diane, after their father's death.This got away from me and was supposed to be cute and an entirely different story but it ended up sad and depressing.  Sorry, gonna post it anyway.  I guess it could be considered cute, just the really sad, makes me wanna cry kind.





	Before

**Author's Note:**

> No idea what happened to this story. I meant to write a cute thing about Frank and Diane as kids that tied in to a thing with Frank and Mary. Still will probably write that one too, but this is definitely not it.
> 
> Sorry in advance for it seeming a little off tone-wise. Like I said, it started out being something cute, then changed drastically.

She hadn’t always been this way, their mother. He remembers a time before...well, just before. If he really thinks back, he’s pretty sure it can all be traced back to their father’s death.

He tries not to think back most days. Especially not that far. But there’s something about this day, something that has him going there in his mind.

The memories from back then so painless they almost hurt worse. Remembering how differently their lives could have gone.

How differently her life could have gone.

Back then, before, when she was just his sister. Just his pain in the ass sister, all his to pester and protect in equal measure.

Believe it or not, he had been a momma’s boy back then. It was always his mom, her dad. They were both his, of course, and both hers. But to an eight year old boy, whose mother showered him in affection while their father had been wrapped around Diane’s little finger since the day she was born, it was an easy distinction.

One that their parents had never seemed to have any desire to correct. And all four of them seemed content to let it stand.

Then his father had left Diane without her dad.

No, not his fault by any means, death doesn’t spare a person because of a three year old daughter that needs them. Or an eight year old son who had yet to realize how much he needed his father as well.

Or even a wife with their two children who she has always loved, but never truly known how to connect with.

So he had done the only thing he had thought could make things even. His eight year old self, consoling his three year old sister one night when their mother was still adjusting, still enjoying the numbness that had temporarily taken the place of the hurt, had given up his mother.

Diane had been sobbing, tears wetting the lace ruffle of her nightgown, all too aware of what had happened. She was crying out for him, always for Daddy.

Their mother couldn’t handle her when she got like that yet. So he had come to her rescue, his mother’s rescue so she wouldn’t cry along with Diane, and Diane’s rescue, so she didn’t have to be reminded that her Daddy was the one person she couldn’t have.

“Shhhh, it’s alright Di-Annie,” he remembered saying over and over, using the still familiar comfort words that belonged to the man they had said their goodbyes to earlier that week. “So, I was thinking. We had two parents, you had Dad, and I had mom. Right?”

He remembers the lack of response, but it did little to deter him. She just didn’t understand what he was saying yet. He pressed on, “But plenty of people have more than just two kids, and still have just two parents. So they just have to share, right? And we already shared them before, sometimes. Like baseball, you don’t like it but sometimes Dad would do stuff like that with me.”

Diane was calming in his arms ever so slightly. He remembers hoping she might be following his thoughts now. Getting more confident in his offering, he continued, “So, Mom can be for both of us now. I’m older so I don’t need her so much. So you can have her too. She doesn’t have to be just mine now.”

Diane snuggled closer to him. “Does that sound okay maybe? You like playing with her sometimes, right? Like when she does school stuff with you.”

They were both home-schooled, although Diane was just starting any kind of school work, their mother had been doing little educational things with them from the time they each could sit still. Diane was clearly the more gifted in that department. Her attention span was impressive, even he had noticed how good his sister sat and worked with his mom.

The shaking and sobbing had calmed enough that he knew at that point that at least she was listening to him. “Yeah, so we can just share her. It’ll be easy, you won’t even notice I need her, cause mostly I don’t. I’m big now, so I’m okay, see?”

One eye peeked up from the face buried in his lap, skeptical but willing to hear him out. He straightened up from where he had slumped down a bit to have his arms more firmly around her to give her a more accurate measurement of how big he was, how much he meant it.

Her face reburied itself but he was pretty sure he made his point. His hands started petting her back and her hair, like his mom- their mom- did to him when he was upset about something the kids in the neighborhood had done and spoke again, softer this time.

“And, if you want, we can share your dad too.” He almost didn’t want to say it, but he didn’t want her to be the only one who lost him. It didn’t seem fair. “Like I said, I’m big now. I can help share that too. I can share Mom with you, and I can share not having Dad with you too. If you want.”

He didn’t really know why he had tears in his eyes by the time he stopped talking, but his vision had gone swimmy, like when you open your eyes in the pool, and his throat had started hurting, like when you have a tie that’s too tight around your neck, but higher up.

He remembers thinking she must have decided to let him share her dad, and this is just a piece of what she is feeling, a piece that she gave to him so he could start helping her like the good brother he wanted to be.

He didn’t like how it felt, but it felt better to know he might be helping her even a little. If it would’ve helped, he’d have taken as much of that feeling as he could from her.

That never changed. To this day, he would’ve taken all of it from her if that was possible.

“Thanks Frankie.” Her response is so quiet he almost misses it, barely audible even in the still of the night.

He realized before he could respond that she had fallen asleep.

He continued to sit with her all the rest of the night. And the one after that. And the one after that. And as many nights after, for as long as he still got that feeling in his eyes and throat, the one she gave him to let him help. And he cried. He cried her tears for her because she was too worn out to do it anymore, but he hadn’t cried yet, so he still could. He could share it.

He promised her that night, he’d always be there to share it. He sealed it with a kiss to her forehead.

Because he loves her and if sharing it with her is what could make her okay, then he’d do it every night for as long as he lived.

Unfortunately, the reason he remembers making that silent vow to her, is the night he realized he had broken it.

Stumbling out of the bathroom he falls to his knees beside his niece, lying peacefully on his couch.

The sirens wake her. Mary. The sirens wake Mary. Not…

He wishes they would wake her too. Wishes he could make his vow to her again, that he could go back to that night, make sure to wake her up to promise her that. Back when he could wake her up.

And make her promise that she would let him. Share it, share it all.

Back...before.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, sorry guys...Hopefully it wasn't too bad the way it turned out. Thanks for bearing with me, I'd love to hear what you think of this one, or if I should try for the cute one. Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome!


End file.
